


Guard Captain Arten

by SatanicGoose



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Coercion, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Elves, F/M, Fantasy, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Middle Ages, Object Insertion, Prison, Punching, Rough Sex, Sadism, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Watersports
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:08:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26483941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SatanicGoose/pseuds/SatanicGoose
Summary: The new Guard Captain of the grand city of Venantes wastes no time in abusing his authority. He rapes, he bullies, and he doesn't give a fuck.Mind the tags. This is absolute filth and no one should read it.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

– I've heard only great things about you, Captain, said guardsman Verair. The man was older, maybe in his fifties, and stood awkwardly in the middle of Captain Arten's office.

Guard Captain Arten looked the man up and down, not bothering to grace the platitude with a reply. Verair changed his weight from one foot to another, stroked his beard, and repeated:

– Just great things. I'm sure we'll get along splendidly.

Arten let out a sigh. It had been a long day of paperwork, smoky indoors air, and being bothered by this insufferably bland man. Gods, he needed several pints of strong ale. And a good hard fuck. Not necessarily in that order.

– If that's all? Arten asked.

The older man seemed to be startled out of his slowness. – Quite, he said, straightening his back. – Yes, Guard Captain. I will have the papers in order by tomorrow. And the new recruits should be arriving soon.

– Dismissed, guardsman.

Verair bowed and turned. Love to see you go, thought Arten. First day in office, only his second in the grand city of Venantes, and he was bored out of his head.

Still, the pay would be good. The oak table he sat behind and the lush tapestries on the walls were quite a step up from his shabby old office in Rivermouth. And of course a big city had all the luxuries that his little town lacked. Theatres. Minstrels. Exotic goods. Powerful people. Whores, sweet fresh whores...

It turned out that tapestries and furniture were not the only things worth admiring in his office. Before guardsman Verair could close the door, a soft, young woman's voice could be heard from outside.

– Excuse me very much, sir, is the Captain with someone? I should very much like to go in, tend the fireplace and the like...

– Go on then, said the guardsman, and the woman slipped in the door.

It was an elven woman, damn hard to tell those beasts' ages but can't have been more than twenty. Dressed in a servant's brown dress, she was carrying logs and bowed her head when she came in. Apparently used to being ignored, she didn't say anything but went to stoke the fire.

Arten watched his papers, seemingly ignoring the girl until her back was turned. She had a fine arse. Could use a bit more meat on it, but Arten could still appreciate it when she bent to put the logs down. Her neck was slender and brown from the sun, and her silver hair was collected on top of her hear in a loose bun. She was fuckable, Arten decided. He shifted in his seat, rubbing his dick absent-mindedly.

Gods, he was horny. He hadn't gotten laid in days, and even then that had been that mousy milkmaid, who'd whined for him to hurry up the whole time. He'd still taken his time, and come inside her as a revenge for all the complaining, but still, she'd killed the mood. Nothing like this fresh young waif who knelt in front of his fireplace now, humming softly.

Arten got up from his seat and slowly walked around the table. The elf girl glanced in his direction, quickly lowered her gaze, and continued working. Arten walked towards her, a small smile on his lips as he wondered when the girl would notice something amiss. He adjusted his cock through his breeches. This girl would learn how they fucked downriver, she sure as hell would. He'd give her a ride she wouldn't soon forget.

– Sir? the elf asked, half turning toward him but keeping her gaze down.

Arten stopped, several feet from the girl, and let the girl's question hang in the air for a moment.

– What's your name then, girl? he asked, standing over the slight elf, looking down. The poor thing still didn't dare raise her eyes.

– Enwaire, sir, the girl said, in a small voice.

Let her wonder, Arten thought, let her wonder why the Captain himself paid attention to a lowly elf girl. Enwaire. What a pompous name for a long-eared beast. Gods, he hated elves who thought they were better than humans. This one seemed to be good and cowed, though, and in any case she'd be good for a fuck.

– Worked here long? he asked slowly, measuring the girl with his gaze. Impossible to tell the size of her tits under the loose front of her dress. They were not big, that was painfully apparent.

The girl seemed to consider what was proper, then got up from her work and wiped her hands on her skirts, keeping her head bowed. – Three years now, sir.

– How old are you then?

– Seventeen, sir.

Just seventeen, then. Arten felt his dick jump at the youth of the girl. So fresh, so frightened. Would she be a virgin, still? Probably not, probably she'd lain with a dozen dirty elf boys with their tiny filthy cocks. He'd show her how a man fucks, a proper human man.

– I have something to show you, Arten said, as if holding a nice conversation. He had a hard time keeping his arousal from his voice. Just a while longer. – Something about your duties now that I'm Captain. Is that clear?

The girl looked more scared than before, eyes still downcast, hands clasped in front of her. – Yes, sir, of course sir, Captain, she stammered.

– Look here then, Arten said, pointing at the shelf on the wall beside him.

– Sir?

– Look. At. This.

Arten's voice was commanding, and the girl hurried to look at the spot where Arten pointed, bewildered, not knowing what to look for.

Arten pointed at a random dusty book left by his predecessor. _Beasts of the Forest_. How apt, he thought, as I'm about to fuck one.

– Look closer! he snapped.

Obediently, the girl bent closed. Perfect. Her back was almost to Arten, arse on display, an echo of the common whore's offering pose. Arten stepped behind her, his crotch barely touching the back of her skirts.

– Sir? she asked, sounding almost panicked, and started to turn.

– Stay. There.

Now he let a bit of anger into his voice, an unspoken "or else". This can't have been the first time one of her betters copped a feel of her, anyway. Pretty young thing like that, she must be used to it.

She stood frozen, still staring at the book. Arten doubted she could read. He let his hand fall on her thigh, and from there slid it to her butt and gave it a squeeze. The elf gasped. Hell, but he couldn't feel much through all these skirts. Arten lifted his hand and placed it on her shoulder, comforting the trembling girl.

– Hush, he muttered, pressing closer to her. She was warm and very tense and her breathing was ragged. – Hush, girl. Just touching you a little, nothing to it, just like that...

He let his other hand slip down her skirts, and he gathered a bunch of fabric and started to lift her skirts.  
That made her squirm, but she didn't dare turn. – Sir, I cannot, it's not right... she mumbled.

The Captain stopped and pressed even closer, his cock pushing pleasurably against the small of her back. She was short and slight and she would be tight, as these elves always were.

– Do you want to work here still? he asked softly, dangerously, close to her ear.

– Yes, sir, but I, I must go now...

She was soft and trembling and smelled of soap and earth. He held her shoulder tight.

– If you don't want to be out of a job, Enwaire, Arten said slowly, emphasizing her name. – Then you'll just let me touch you a little.

She drew a sharp breath but didn't move. Arten decided he'd sweeten the deal a bit, to show he could be good, too. He could be better than these beasts deserved, even.

– I won't hurt you, he said softly. – I might even give you a small gift if you're good, hmm? How would you like an entire silver penny, hmm?

She seemed to pause, consider, soften a little. Taking advantage of her confusion, he resumed lifting her skirts, gathering them in a tight bunch in one hand. And there, the gates of paradise lay exposed. She wasn't wearing smallclothes, and her bare rump was pale, smaller now than it had seemed under the layers of clothing, and so inviting. Arten took a firm hold of her hip with the hand that was holding the shirts up, so that if she got any ideas she wouldn't be quick to run away, and reached his other hand between her narrow thighs.

– Sir, please, she sobbed. It was almost a whisper, already resigned.

– Hush, girl, Arten muttered, and felt her slit with one calloused finger. It was a thin line, tightly closed, and covered with thin wispy hair. And entirely dry. You'd think these dirty brats would have the good sense to get a little excited, he thought sourly. She was, after all, to be taken by one of her betters.

Still, not to be deterred, he reached his finger in his mouth and wet it. His cock was hard against her, and he made small rocking motions against her back, rubbing ever so slightly against the girl. She was holding her breath, and when he glanced up he saw tears of her face. Ungrateful little brat. He reached back between her legs, middle finger wet, and rubbed to find the opening. It was hard to find, so tightly closed, but he prodded and poked, and finally his finger pushed its way in one of the tightest cunts he'd ever felt.

She let out a sharp, scared noise. Her entire body was tense as a bowstring again, and no doubt that made the hole even tighter. Arten was ecstatic.

– That's more like it, he sighed happily. – Here we go, in the cunt, just like that. We're going to go right in there.

He pushed the finger in a bit more, then pulled it out and tasted it to wet it a bit more. The girl had almost no flavour, no odour, just a slight tanginess.

He pushed the finger back in the girl, now impatient. He needed to fuck, had needed to fuck for days. Regretfully taking the finger out, not daring to let his hold on the elf go, he started to open his breeches.

A polite knock on the door startled both him and the girl.

– Shit gods be damned to hell's arse and back, Arten said under his breath. – A moment, he called, louder.

He hacked a glob of spit to his hand, rubbed it in between Enwaire's legs, and unceremoniously pushed two fingers in the girl. She let out a sob and didn't stop trembling when he sawed the fingers in and out, an imitation of the hard fuck he'd wanted to give the girl.

He pulled his fingers out of the sobbing girl and wiped them on her skirt. Then, Guard Captain Arten walked back behind his desk, sat down, and adjusted his aching cock to a more bearable position.

Enwaire adjusted her skirts, still sniffling. Ungrateful brat, Arten thought again, before he called: – Come in!

As the door opened, Enwaire slipped out like a ghost, head bowed. There goes my fuck, Arten thought bitterly.

Guardsman Verair came in. Hadn't the man been enough of a bother already?

– Sir, he said politely, glancing after the escaping girl. – Have you had time to go through the new candidates?

Arten glanced at his papers. He had not. – Yes, yes. Let the first one in.

– I'll let them know you're ready, sir.

The old man left, and Arten thought briefly about rubbing one off before admitting the first one in. He decided against it. His own hand would be a sad consolation prize when he's had his eyes on a real treasure. He would wait.

The first candidate for a new guardsman was unimpressive, a young bully from very low nobility who'd come to prove himself, mostly to himself. Arten knew his type, unambitious and violent. Arten marked him down as admitted. Fools like him were easily controlled, at least.

– Next! Arten called.

The second one was in his forties, older than the guard usually admitted. His farmhouse had burned down, he said, and he had a dead spouse, six surviving children, and no way to feed his family. He was strong and a quick learner, no illnesses or injuries, and he would work twice as hard as anyone.

– How very tragic, Arten said, and crossed over the man's name on his list. – We'll let you know.

The man thanked him profusely for the chance and left, walking backwards and bowing.

– Next! Arten called.

The next candidate was a treat. A tall young woman, she had trained with a sword-master in her village, and had come to Venantes to look for employment. She seemed ambitious, and she carried her sword like someone who knew what she was doing. And she had big tits, apparent in her simple tunic. Short brown hair, big dark eyes, she was pretty as a picture. She'd do, Arten decided, she'd do very nicely.

– Show me how you hold a sword, then, Arten said, not letting any of his interest be heard in his voice.

Unhesitantly, the woman, Marlene, drew her sword and showed a flawless pose. Arten felt his already tortured dick wake up again when her tunic was drawn even tighter over one of her tits. He got up from his chair, walked slowly around the woman, and took his time to admire her buttocks. More muscular than round, but he couldn't complain. He let out a small noise of thoughtful consideration and sat back down.

– Very well, he said. – At ease.

The woman sheathed her sword and looked at him, eager as a dog.

– Your sword-master, Arten said, glancing at his papers. – Was he a member of the guild? I'm not familiar with his name...

Arten knew very well that a backwater town's only decent swordsman wouldn't be a member of the guild, no chance of that. But he looked expectantly at Marlene.

– Well, sir, no, she said, her manner pleasant. She had a sonorous voice and nice, full lips. – But he is recognised by all to be the best one in–

– Right, Arten interrupted. – And have you trained under any guild-approved master?

– No, sir, but I would surely–

– Right, Arten said in the same bored tone. – So, surely you have a sponsor ready, then, who could fund your lessons?

Surely she would not have a sponsor, Arten knew. And true enough, he watched her posture drop, like a dog that's been scolded.

– No, sir, she said.

– Riiiight.

Arten pretended to read her papers for a moment. Then he cast a long look at Marlene. – This is not exactly impressive, he said.

– Is there any way I can prove myself? she asked. She was almost defeated but not yet defensive, arms hanging by her sides, gaze wavering from his face to his desk to the floor. She was ripe for the taking.

– How much do you want to get into the guild, then? he asked.

She seemed to perk up a bit. – Oh, very much, sir. I sold everything I had to get here. If you'll only let me prove myself, sir.

– Tell you what, Arten said, as if only now coming to the conclusion. – I am in need of a very personal favour.

Arten made sure to emphasise the word "personal" so she'd get his meaning. He eyed her, sizing up her reaction before he continued.

– Relieve my pain a little and I'll see to it you're admitted in the guard. How does that sound?

He watched her carefully. She stood tall, very still, considering his words.

– Or we can call it off, Arten said, straightening his stack of papers. – It was just a proposal. It was nice meeting you, miss.

– No! Marlene exclaimed. – I mean, sir, do you mean you want...

She stopped mid-sentence and looked at him, almost pouting. She seemed younger than she'd been when she walked in, younger than her twenty years.

– I think you know exactly what I want, Arten said and sighed contentedly. Finally, he had her. Marlene was not a bad score.

– Yes, sir, she said mechanically and breathed out. – You tell me what you want me to do, she added, with more feeling. She almost managed to sound seductive.

– Open the tunic, then, Arten said impatiently. He was so close now, and this young soldier-to-be was going to receive all his pent-up lust. – Show us the mounds.

She obeyed, fumbling with the strings but managing to free her breasts. They were magnificent, round and plump, and they bounced slightly as she shrugged off her tunic.

– Breeches too, he ordered, and got up from his desk. He'd planned to take it a bit slower, to make her give him a bit of a show, but being this close to sinking his cock into something wet and tight, he just wanted it all, right away. Marlene bent to pull off her boots and then loosened her breeches and let them drop to the floor too. When she was naked, Arten walked up to her, grasped her, pulling her close and pressed his mouth on hers. He invaded her mouth with his tongue and used one hand to hold her waist. She didn't resist, she even participated in the kiss a little, soft and pliant in his arms. He let his other hand wander, groping her round arse, pulling her hair, grasping the side of her boob.

The breasts were gorgeous, and he bent to lick one nipple and then the other, sucking it in and then taking as much of it in his mouth as he could and biting down. She whimpered, probably in pain, and it was then that Arten knew what he wanted.

He didn't just want to fuck her. He wanted her to be afraid. He wanted her to know who was in control. He wanted her to sob like the elf-girl had.

– Bend over then, he growled, and half pushed her head down on his desk. He spit on his hand and felt between her legs. She was not as tightly closed as the elf had been, and she even let out a sigh when he found her little nub. He rubbed there a little, not bothering to be too gentle but still letting her relax a little, before he swatted her buttock with his open palm.

She drew a sharp breath but did not say anything and did not get up. He slapped her again, and again, and still once more, before she let out a pained whine.

– Sir, she said in a husky voice. – Please, fuck me, fuck me now.

How pathetic. She was trying to get it over with. Well, let her have it then, he thought, let her have it.

– You want it bad, huh? he asked, amusement in his voice.

– Yes sir, she purred. – You got my cunny all wet.

Either there was a half-truth there or she was a damn good actor, he thought as he opened his breeches. Finally, finally he let his cock spring out. It was red and throbbing and leaking already, and it was burning to be inside her.

– Tell me what you want, Arten asked. He spat on his hand and rubbed it between her legs, all the way from her pleasure button to between her strong butt cheeks and back. No use letting her know what she was in for, yet.

– Please stick it in me, Marlene moaned convincingly.

– Oh I will, Arten promised, wetting his cock with thick globs of saliva. – Going to fuck you so hard you'll cry for your mother.

If Marlene was shaken by that she didn't let it show. – Oh please, she asked. – Please...

He didn't make her beg any more. He grabbed his cock, placed it squarely on her tight arse-hole and started to push. Marlene's whole body tensed and she tried to squirm a little.

– A little bit lower, she said, thinking he'd made a mistake. She started reaching her hand back to guide him but he blocked her hand with his own.

– Oh, I see now, he said in a comforting tone, and adjusted himself a little. The longer she believed he wouldn't do it, the better. Her arse-hole was tightly closed, and it would surely hurt her, and he needed to be clever to get in at all.

– Just let me guide it in the right hole, Arten said, to pacify the girl. Then he adjusted his cock again, to point directly at the young soldier's tight bottom hole, and pushed hard.

His wet dickhead slipped in the tightest, smoothest pulsing little hole he could ever have wished for. Arten let out a long, pleasured sigh. Coming to Venantes and being Guard Captain had all been worth it. He was in the sweetest place he could ever be.

Marlene had frozen for just a moment, in surprise and shock, but she drew a quick breath. Arten knew enough to bend down and cover her mouth just as she was about to let out a scream of pain. It became a muffled sob against his palm. Arten doubted it could be heard outside the room.

– Hush now, he said, catching his breath, savouring the constricting tight hole. – Be quiet. I cannot let you in the guard if people know you spread your arse for it, now can I? Now take it without a sound and you'll be a city soldier before you know it.

He let his hand fall from her mouth and grabbed her hips, and pushed his dick slowly in, half an inch, then a little bit out, rocking very slowly in and out of her hole.

– Sir, she said in a breathless voice. – Sir, please, take it out.

He continued his rocking. It felt earth-shakingly good, and he was ready to threaten her, punch her, stab her, anything if she tried to take this relief away from him now.

– And why would I take it out? he asked slowly, also breathless.

– Sir, it hurts. Please. It hurts so much. I don't do this ever. Please take my cunt instead.

– Hmm, Arten said, as if considering it. – You see, it feels very good to me. So I don't think I'll take it out before I'm done.

She looked at him over her shoulder, fearful as a young deer now. And then she slumped on the desk, all fight gone from her.

She was his now. Arten felt on top of the world. He was Guard Captain and he would fuck whoever he wanted, hurt whoever he wanted. He started pushing deeper into the girl's virgin arse, conquering new territory with each thrust.

Marlene hung on the desk limply, occasionally letting out a sob when he went a bit deeper or a bit faster. Arten didn't care anymore. He'd wanted to hurt the girl, and now the girl was hurt. She was utterly defeated, and he just wanted to fuck. Let this be a lesson for you, he thought as he pushed all the way in the shallowly breathing woman under him. Let this be a lesson for everyone. Nobody stops me.

He started thrusting harder, faster, feeling his cock get close to bursting. The girl came alive again, sobbing and squirming now, as he went in fast, deep strokes inside her tight arse.

– Please, she said occasionally, or, – Sir, it hurts so.

He almost didn't hear her words any more. He pushed and pushed inside the girl, losing his rhythm in the pulsing tightness, sinking his fingers deep in her hips, and finally his vision flashed white in hot, urgent pleasure as he came inside the girl. He pumped one burst of sperm inside her arse, got enough of his wits back to pull out and spurted a white line on her back. Harshly, he pushed inside her cunt and pumped the last of his sperm there. Who knows, maybe she'd carry his bastard yet. She'd be too ashamed to admit it was his, though. And nobody would believe her if she did. The thought of her shame made him pulse a couple more times in pure ecstasy.

– You, she breathed, shocked. – You came inside me! What if I, what if it takes...

Arten looked down and feigned mild surprise. – Oh, he said. – I thought it was still in your arse. Huh.

He slowly pulled out, and she said no more. Before she could push herself up from the table, though, he pushed a few fingers back in her arse and felt around there. He kneaded around there for a while, feeling his own seed inside her, and she took it silently, without moving. Finally he bored of humiliating her and wiped his fingers on his own shirt. She'd earned that much.

Slowly she got up and got dressed. She was slow and clumsy, like she'd been working all day and was exhausted. Well, she had worked for her place in the guard, Arten had to admit. He pulled up his breeches and sat back down at his desk, picking up the stack of papers that were now slightly crumpled from their activities.

Marlene was delicious, even more so now that she was broken. Arten stole a last glance at her beautiful breasts before she closed her tunic.

She looked at him, as if expecting him to say something. He looked at her for a long time, daring her to speak first, but she didn't.

– Dismissed, he said finally, and nodded towards the door.

Marlene nodded stiffly and didn't say anything. Arten saw the moment when she tried to compose herself, squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath before opening the door. But her posture wasn't quite as proud as when she'd walked in.

– Oh, you're finished, said Verair, peering in the door after Marlene had walked out. – Shall I send in the next candidate?

Arten put his papers down and sighed. – You know what, my good man? he said. – It's late. I'll see the rest of the candidates tomorrow. I'm absolutely dying for a good ale.

Verain nodded politely and closed the door.

Arten smiled. It was good being Guard Captain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've wanted to write very trashy noncon porn for a long time, and finally got around to it. Not posting under my other account because I want to keep this separate from my more serious writing. There might be more, no promises though, life is hectic.
> 
> Also this world is very much a ripoff from Dragon Age. But I felt more comfortable creating my own world, where I don't have to consider existing dynamics or do justice to the nuances of canon and fandom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guard Captain Arten plots to take a teenage errand boy, assaults a barmaid, and generally goes around being a terrible person.

The boy was delectable.

He lingered inside Guard Captain Arten's office door, too shy or too polite to ask for a tip but obviously waiting for it anyway, and maybe a word of thank you. He stood with his hip cocked, half turned toward Arten, probably not even realising how seductive he looked. His hair was shaggy and his trousers were too short, but he looked healthy, tan skin and green eyes hinting at a smile.

Arten glanced at the scroll the boy had brought, sighing happily. It was from the Contessa, and he had been expecting it.

"Do you know what you brought, lad?" Arten asked, just as the boy had turned back to the door, having given up on the tip. The youth had a round arse and a strong back, if Arten was any judge.

"No, sir", he said. His voice was clear and young, perfectly polite.

"This is a summons to meet the Contessa, lad", Arten said. "Just the most important person in Venantes, it is."

The boy nodded. "Yes, sir."

Arten was beginning to think the boy was a bit dull. Oh well, he wasn't looking for intelligent conversation, not from a half-ragged errand-boy.

"You the Contessa's boy then?" Arten said, with polite interest.

The lad took a step away from the door, eager to be noticed, hopeful for a favour or another job.

"No sir, just do some errands for the palace, like, when they have need of me."

Arten looked appraisingly at the boy's lips. They were full though pale, and Arten could, if he strained just a little bit, imagine those lips stretched around his cock. Why not, he thought, why not indeed.

"The Contessa's people treat you well, do they?" Arten asked, perfectly friendly.

The boy nodded, polite. "They do, sir. There's loads of people waiting to do jobs, though. It's hard to earn my keep some days, sir."

And there it was. Desperation. Arten smiled approvingly and beckoned the boy over with a finger. The lad walked over to him, with an expectant smile.

Arten dug a copper from his coin-purse and leaned conspiratorially over the table, coin in hand.

"How would you like to earn two entire silvers, my good lad?" he asked, lowering his voice as if he thought someone might be listening.

"I'd like it very much!" the boy said excitedly. He made to take the copper, but Arten held it out of his reach.

"What do you need me to do?" the boy asked.

Lady of Heavens, how old was this boy, to look so naïve, so excitable? He looked to be sixteen at the least, but surely a sixteen-year-old boy should be less trusting of strange men offering him a good sum of money.

Still, it was not Arten's problem if the lad didn't know what he was getting into. He would learn.

"Come to the Goose and Hog tonight, after dinner-time", Arten said, gauging the boy's reaction. No change in the eager green eyes. "If you're willing to earn money, that is. We'll talk there. It's a private business, you see. I think that you'll be worth my trust."

He held the copper to the boy as if offering to seal a contract, and the boy got the meaning. He frowned, and those darling lips turned to a slight pout. Arten decided he would start by fucking that mouth. Had the boy ever given a blowjob, he wondered. And what would be more exciting, to teach a trembling virgin or to enjoy a skilled slut? Either would be good, he decided.

The boy made his decision and held out his hand for the coin. Arten dropped the coin in his hand, and the deal was done, whether the boy knew it or not.

"I will see you in the evening, sir!" the boy called out before walking to the door, a spring in his step. He turned back to glance at Arten.

Arten gave him an indulgent smile but held a finger on his lips, to signify silence.

But it was still early afternoon, and he had one more encounter to look forward to that day. It had been three days since Guard Captain Arten had spent a day in his office, and three days since he had seen the trembling little elf woman who was a maid in the guard barracks. Should he try to fuck the little treat today, or save his energies for the plump-lipped errand-boy? Eh, he'd just scare the elf a bit, have some fun, and take her sometime later. She'd be there every day. Where else could a poor little elf go? Arten sighed contentedly and promised himself he'd at least finish the next week's guard roster before leaving for the tavern.

But when there was a polite knock on the door, later in the afternoon, the servant who came to tend to the fire and ask if Arten needed anything was an elderly halfling man, short and chubby. Arten eyed him up and down and wondered idly if he should check to see what kind of a cock that one had under his tunic. Eh, the old ones were too much trouble, too conscious of ways to fight back. And he wasn't even interested in the man, other than in the way bullying someone was always a bit of fun, just to see who tried to fight and who froze entirely.

And Arten had never had a halfling. But maybe he'd start with a young and attractive one.

"Need anything, sir?" the halfling asked, polite but composed. Arten had known it, these types were not so easily cowed. He waited a moment, just to show he could.

"I could do with a glass of wine, if you please", he said sweetly. "And tell me, my good man... Wasn't there a young elf here before, doing what you're doing now?"

The man bowed. "Yes there were, sir, Eloise I think she was called... or Emilie." He paused to think.

Erwaine, Arten thought, but stayed silent. The halfling didn't pay him much attention but rattled on.

"Just today, I was moved from cleaning the sleeping-quarters to here, sir. I thought it rather odd, really, seeing as I've been doing the same thing for years now, I have! But they needed someone to take her place, don't know why, mighty odd it was..."

Arten was quickly losing interest in the talkative old man. So the pointy-eared whore had gone and left him, was that it? Too proud to take a little groping here and there, was she? He's show her. When he found her, he's show her how little say she had if the Guard Captain himself wanted to touch her.

Arten barely noticed the halfling leave. And when the servant came back with his wine and some bread and ham, he realized he'd been staring at the empty roster sheet for the whole time.

It was Monday night, not too late, and the Goose and Hag was not yet half full. New to town, Arten had deemed the place the best choice out of the few taverns he could name. Not so cheap as to water down their beer too much, but cheap enough that they'd let the boy in. While he waited, a maid came to serve him. She was a pretty young thing, plump arse and curly hair, and she giggled when she saw his Captain's brooch.

"Oh, you're the new Guard Captain, sir, come to grace our house with your presence?"

Arten smiled widely at the comely girl. "That I am, indeed." He patted the bench beside him. "Come, lass, sit down while I tell you what I need."

The girl giggled again and sat down, not quite touching him but close enough to be friendly.

"One large pint of ale", Arten said. He moved closer to the girl and put his arm around the girl's waist. She didn't flinch, she must have been used to it. "And what have you got to eat tonight?"

"There's roast pig", the barmaid said.

While she talked, Arten gathered her skirts up on her knees. She tried to move away, but he held her waist with his other hand.

"Or, or stew if you want it a bit cheaper", she stammered, trying to be quick about it. "It's a penny and a half."

Arten reached under her skirts, holding her in place. She'd apparently decided not to make a scene. Good.

"Hmm, what's the stew made of?" he asked, while working his fingers inside the girl's smallclothes.

"It's chicken, Captain, sir, but please don't do that."

Arten decided not to hear the plea. "I'll take the pig", he said. It was tight manoeuvring under all the clothes, but he managed to touch the girl's slit. She was sweaty and plump, and he had no trouble slipping a finger in her cunt.

The girl let out a small squeal. "Really, sir Captain, that is not... people are looking!"

Arten glanced around him while trying to push a second finger up her. The angle was wrong and he gave up the effort, content to torment her with one finger. Indeed, there was an old man watching with interest from a table near them. Other than that, they were blocked from anyone's sights. Arten smiled and nodded at the man, who looked away, embarrassed.

Arten held her tighter. "There, there, just a bit of fun. Do you have free rooms here?"

"There's..." the girl tried to yank away from him one more time, failed, and quieted down. "There's one private and one shared, sir."

"Hmm", Arten murmured. The angle of his fingers was wrong to get comfortably further up the girl's cunt, but he adjusted his position and pushed two fingers in her arse at the same time. They pushed in surprisingly easily, on account of her sweat and the slight moisture from her cunt.

"Ow!" she cried. The old man turned back at them and stared at her with unbridled lust. Arten pushed the fingers as far as they would go in the awkward positioning of his hand and wiggled them a little. She was so uncomfortable that it made him grin. She squirmed and tried helplessly to push at him.

Eventually he let go of her waist. The bar-maid jumped up, unseating herself from his fingers. She stood beside the table, adjusted her skirt and looked at him, daggers in her gaze.

Arten laughed heartily. "I'll take the private room for the night", he said. "Lovely meeting you, sweetie. But run along now, I haven't all night!"

She glared at him but then turned and left without a word. When she came back with his food and drink, she stayed as far away from him as she could while serving him. But she had to set the food in front of him, and Arten took the change to grab a good hold of her butt and squeeze. She tensed up and left as quickly as she could. Arten let her go. He'd have better company soon.

He was just finishing his meal when the errand-boy arrived. He stood awkwardly at the table, glancing at the remains of Arten's food hungrily.

"Hungry, then?" Arten asked.

"Oh, yes sir, I am a bit!" she boy said, smiling.

"Well then", Arten said cordially. "I just have this one job for you, and you'll get paid two silver for it tonight, and then you'll buy all the food you want."

"Yes, sir", the boy agreed. Arten saw the disappointment in the boy's posture, but he didn't have the time to watch some young street-boy eat. Let the lad feed himself when he didn't have better things to do.

"Come on up, then", Arten said, wiping his mouth. "I have a room where it's better to discuss our agreement."

There was a hint of hesitation on the boy's face, but he didn't say anything. He'd made his decision by coming here, Arten thought, nothing to be done about it now. He waved the boy up the narrow stairs before him, so he could watch they boy's behind. Oh, but the young lad had the most delicious, round arse. Arten wanted to punch it, bite it, rut his cock in it until the boy begged for mercy.

"What's your name, boy?" he asked gently.

"It's Fery, sir", the boy replied.

"And your age?"

"Sixteen, sir."

Sixteen, just like Arten had thought. Sixteen, and not wise enough not to follow older men into private tavern rooms. Or maybe too desperate not to. Sixteen and about to be fucked all the way to hell and back. Arten grinned.

They reached the top floor, and Arten got his key and opened the door to his room. It was small and shabby and smelled vaguely of rat poison. If the bed was dirty, he'd rub the boy's face in it. Make him work for his money.

"You're a good lad for coming here, Fery", Arten said after closing the door.

"Thank you, sir." Fery eyed the door nervously. Arten purposefully stood in front of it.

"Now, for your job." Arten dug up two glistening silver coins from his purse, showed them to Fery, and placed them deliberately on the small table in the corner.

"Those can be yours", he said, happy about Fery's hungry gaze following the coins. "All you have to do is, kneel down and take my prick in your mouth."

Fery was frozen in place, eyeing the money on the table, then the closed door, then Arten's crotch. Arten let him consider for only a moment.

"Come on then, you're already here, no backing off now. Think about what you can do with two silver, boy! Just a half hour or so and they're yours."

Fery glanced once more at the money and nodded. "Okay then", he said. "I'll suck it."

Not a blushing virgin, then. That was one mystery solved. Arten burped, his meal still heavy in his stomach, sighed contentedly, and opened his breeches. Fery stared at his engorged cock that leaped proudly towards the ceiling. They stood in silence for a moment. Arten wanted to let the boy see the weapon that would destroy him.

"What you waiting for?" Arten asked. "Down on your knees, boy!"

Awkwardly, the boy knelt down, opened his mouth, and tentatively took Arten's cock-head in his mouth.

It was simply delicious. The boy's lips were soft and wet, and he sucked slowly and carefully. He lowered his head, taking several inches of Arten's pulsing cock in his mouth, and stopped before it hit his throat and backed away again. It was probably insecurity and not any kind of a desire to make it last longer or tease Arten. But Arten was still content with the boy's gentle sucking, for almost three entire minutes.

But if he'd wanted tenderness, he'd have been married or something. Soon enough, he took hold of the boy's head, and started to guide himself a bit deeper into Fery's throat. Not enough to make him gag, just a bit more than the boy had been comfortable with. Let him know who has the money and the power.

Then Arten made sure his hold on the boy's thick brown hair was good, and pushed more strongly against his throat. It felt amazing, how the tight throat pulsed around him before the boy jerked away from him and coughed. He had a tear glistening in one eye, and he didn't say anything, just looked at Arten with those big green eyes.

"Why've you stopped?" Arten snapped. "Come on, it won't suck itself."

With a resigned look, the boy opened his mouth and swallowed the cock again. He went a little harder now, maybe to prevent Arten from having to pull him any more, and Arten let him work unguided for a while. It was a satisfactory performance, but he had yet to make the boy suffer like he wanted. He had yet to make the boy cry.

He grabbed a firm hold of the back of the boy's head and pushed his cock in as far as it would go.

The boy yanked back, and Arten let him back away an inch or two, only to push back in and start fucking his throat with force. Fery tried to push at his thighs, but Arten was bigger and stronger than the boy by far, and managed to get a good half-dozen thrusts in before the boy thought to turn his head and managed to twist away.

He was weeping already, and gagging, heaving and miserable on the floor.

"Get it back in your mouth, you useless sod!" Arten commanded.

The boy looked at him fearfully, blinked his lovely wet eyes, and got back to work. This boy had potential, Arten thought. He let the boy work independently for a while again, and it was slow but enjoyable. And then he begun another punishing throat-fuck, this time grabbing the boy's hair so he couldn't turn away as easily.

The boy gagged more and more violently, and struggled harder and harder, as Arten kept pushing his prick all the way in that tight, pulsating throat. It was sweet and wet, and maybe he would kill the boy, suffocate him with his cock, and nobody would care for a little street-rat, especially not for a dirty slut like Fery. He made one more surge into the desperately struggling boy's throat before letting go of him.

The boy collapsed in a heap on the floor, gagging like he was about to vomit, but nothing came out. Another reason not to let a boy eat beforehand, Arten thought, as he disposed of his breeches. Pitiful little rat. Arten bent to pick up a tiny bottle from his pocket, then grabbed Fery by his collar.

Arten almost raised him off the floor, surprised at how little the boy weighed. He was limp in Arten's arms, still sobbing and heaving, unseeing eyes full of tears. He hardly even caught himself when Arten threw him face down on the bed.

But the boy came alive when Arten got on the bed over him and started pulling Fery's trousers down.

"No, sir, not that!" Fery managed to say, and tried to turn.

Arten didn't bother to reply. Instead, he punched the boy between the shoulder blades, not as hard as he could have, but hard enough that the boy would certainly feel it. Fery fell back on the bed, gasping for breath.

Arten punched one round buttock, for good measure. It was just as bouncy and soft as he'd imagined, a very satisfying give under his fist.

"No", Fery whispered, but did not try to get up.

Arten pulled the boy's trousers down hard, hearing a seam ripping. Maybe he'd leave another shilling or so, for Fery to get them repaired. Arten was a kind and just man, after all.

He punched the boy's other arse-cheek, for balance's sake. Fery took a sharp breath.

"Sir, please not that", he muttered, hiccupping a little. "Please, I'll suck you more, just not that."

"Ever been fucked, lad?" Arten asked, while opening the little bottle of oil. He was well prepared. And he was curious to know whether he'd be opening a virgin hole.

"I don't like it", Fery said petulantly.

Oh then. The boy had been fucked. Had been raped, most probably. But that was not Arten's fault, and he'd come to fuck a round juicy arse tonight, as he deserved. He sat down on Fery's legs and poured a generous amount of oil between the boy's cheeks.

"I'll make you love it, little boy", he whispered. He slid his middle finger down the boy's crack and pressed down on his hole. It was tightly closed, but the slickness of the oil made it open easily. Arten made a few short jabs in the boy's hole. His cock was throbbing, eager to push in already. Arten took his middle finger out and pushed a thumb in the boy.

"I bet whoever fucked you before didn't even use oil", Arten said, trying to work a second thumb in the boy's hole. "I bet you didn't like it just because he didn't know what he was doing. But you're going to love having my cock up here."

The boy winced when Arten finally got his other thumb partly inside the hole. Good enough, Arten thought. He lifted his hips so his cockead was positioned between his thumbs, and stretching the small hole apart, he tried to work his cock in the boy. It was hard to fit in at first. Whoever had fucked the boy had probably also been smaller than Arten. He might have felt sorry for the boy, had his cockhead not popped inside the boy's tight little hole just then.

Arten leaned forward as he pushed in, letting his body weight fall on the boy. With a larger man on top of him, the boy wouldn't have enough breath to scream too loud. Arten sighed, smiled, and lay down on top of the boy for a moment. His dick was being squeezed by a tight, hot, young arse.

The boy's cavern pulsed and rippled, like it was trying to push him out, but that only made it all the more enjoyable. The boy was gasping for breath under him. He wouldn't kill this boy, not really, he would let him breathe very soon, but for now, Arten concentrated on the exquisite tightness around him. He started to push and pull a little, just to see if he could move. It was slow going, with how tight the boy was, and with Arten not trying very hard to speed it up yet.

The boy mumbled something from under him. Surprised that Fery could even talk with Arten's weight on him, Arten leaned on his arms so the boy could breathe a little.

"Good boy, Fery", he said. "What did you say there?"

"Hate you", the boy repeated, with a teary voice.

Something in Arten hardened again. Fery hated him, then? Well, he could be hateful right back.

Arten grabbed a good hold or Fery, one hand around his chest and the other grabbing his hip, and started to thrust.

The first thrust took him about half-way in the boy. The little rat was so tight it almost hurt him to move, but he was angry now, and he took satisfaction in the fact it hurt the boy much more. Let Fery hate him, then. He would do his best to earn that hatred.

He thrust more powerfully, aiming at depth and speed, not so much his own pleasure. Arten leaned on the young man and thrust mechanically, pulling his cock almost all the way out then pushing it as far in as he could make it. There was that bend in the lad's bowels that didn't want to give, and it made him leave over an inch of his cock out. Arten made a few more deep thrusts and then pushed as far in as the boy would take him. He adjusted his hips and bore down.

His prick stabbed at the unyielding part of the boy's colon. Oh, but that felt delicious too, to rub his cockhead so deep in the boy and feel the bend kiss his cock. It took six or seven hard thrusts against that deep part in the boy before his insides gave, and Arten glided all the way inside the boy.

Fery made a broken sound at that, somewhere between a grunt and a sob. Arten was probably deeper in him than anyone had been before, and that thought was almost better than the tight squeeze of the boy's hole.

From then, it was easier to force himself all the way in the boy with every thrust. Fery made that same grunt with every one of those thrusts, gradually getting louder and then just not stopping his squealing except to draw a long breath. Arten let his full weight fall back down to squash the boy, to make him quiet again.

And with Fery quieted down, he concentrated on pleasuring himself. Arten fucked him in powerful jabs, no longer focused on hurting the boy, just on his own enjoyment of this hot little fuckhole. He tried to keep an even pace, to control himself, but then the boy under him took a long, ragged sob just as Arten happened to look at his tear-streaked face. He was broken, and Arten had broken him.

And with that thought, he lost his patience and started rutting into the boy, abandoning all control of his movements. He rose to greater and greater heights of pleasure in the embrace of that tight hole, and for the moment, nothing mattered except the movement, in and out, in strong, sharp strokes. Arten felt his climax rise and then overtake him in hot ecstasy. He fucked into the boy all through his orgasm, and continued rocking in him even long after he'd pumped all his seed in the boy.

Then he lay still on top of Fery, catching his breath, dick slowly deflating and slipping out of the boy.

He was satisfied. And the boy had earned his pay. Not a tip though, and no money for any new trousers. Fery had been defiant, whined about everything and then told Arten he hated him. That was no behaviour to earn any favours.

Arten pushed himself up from the boy's back. Fery didn't move. He lay limply on the bed, breathing shallowly. Arten didn't know if the boy was conscious or not.

"At least you were a tight fuck", Arten said to the boy.

Fery didn't answer, didn't show any sign that he'd heard Arten.

"Earned you pay, then, fair and square", Arten added.

He got his breeches and put them on, heedless of his sullied cock. Then he picked up the coins from the table and weighed them in his hand. They were good royal silver coins, bigger than an inch in diameter. Wider than his cock.

He sat on the bed next to the unmoving boy, and considered Fery's arse. The hole was gaping open slightly, and a trickle of sperm had escaped the reddened hole. The seed was stained slightly pink, from some small cut Arten had made inside the boy. Well, Arten thought, can't make an omelette without breaking some eggs.

He took the first coin, lined it up with the boy's ass, and pushed hard.

The boy's arsehole was slack from its recent abuse and slippery with oil and sperm, and it admitted the coin easily. Fery emitted a high screech and bent backwards in a tight bow, as if to pull his bottom away from the intrusion. It was comically ineffective, and Arten took the other coin and pushed it in deep with its fellow. Fery's sound was quieter now but still pained.

"There's your pay", Arten said and patted the boy on his bottom. "Until next time."

He stood up, whistling, and walked out the room. It was getting late. Maybe he'd have one more ale before going to bed. Fucking made you thirsty, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hi it's me again, processing through some issues by writing about the most horrible person I can imagine. Again, I have ideas for more chapters, but there are always more ideas than time, aren't there, so who knows if Guard Captain Arten will continue his disgusting adventures in the future.
> 
> Comments are super nice if you have time to write one.
> 
> Oh and look, I moved from dashes to quotation marks. I feel like it's clearer this way.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guard Captain Arten visits the prison, where he and a prison guard enjoy he company of a halfling prisoner. She does not enjoy theirs.

It took Guard Captain Arten exactly four tries to get to know a prison guard who was up to having some fun with the prisoners.

He had made a point of checking the prison by visiting there himself. The head warden of Venantes prison was an oafish, elderly man, and after one excruciating briefing session where Arten just could not get the man to leave his office, he told everyone he'd inspect the prisons personally. And then, every time he was sitting at the guards' table with the one or two guards currently on duty, Arten made sure to advance his more personal investigation.

But the first couple of guards he probed were too scared or too prudish to admit to anything extracurricular. When visiting with Gerard, a younger, dishiveled-looking guard, Arten casually commented on the looks of a nice young demonborn prisoner who had been brought in earlier in the day. The beast really was sweet, all tall and curvy with cute little horns. But Gerard coughed and said nothing. And a few days later, when Arten asked the large, jovial Muriel what they do for fun around here, she replied with a discussion on the merits of a few of the local taverns. Aand she mentioned that the theatre had a new play going on and the price wasn't too high, either.

The third time was even more disappointing. Arten had switched to a more direct tactic and asked Veleda, a beautiful younger guard, whether any of the guards ever took liberties on the prisoners. She tensed visibly and breathed out a disapproving "surely not".

Arten sighed. Some of these guards were just too literal in their interpretation of the code. Just and vigilant, we protect all. As if the little buggers didn't deserve a bit of indecency. And Arten wasn't going to hurt anyone too badly, just have a bit of fun. But no, even that would be denied. Once again, Arten left from his prison visit frustrated and unhappy.

On top of that, the elf Erwaine was nowhere to be seen. Arten had planned to fuck her since his second day as Guard Captain, whether the pointy-eared beast wanted it or not. She had been all tight and trembling the first and only time Arten had got to finger her. At that, she'd been scared away, and none of the carefully offhand questions that Arten asked the staff of Guard's Keep and of his fellow guards produced any leads. Arten was vexed. If he ever found the cursed elf he's fuck her so hard she'd forget her own name. He'd fuck her so she'd beg for death.

But if Arten had learned anything in his life, he thought as he was once more walking down the steps to the prison, it was that corruption was everywhere. Had to be. Even Veleda's strong disapproval was probably a sign that it happened and she knew it. So it was just a matter of Arten finding the right accomplices. Just a matter of time.

This time, the guard on duty was Balric, a big, hard-faced man in his thirties or early forties. The two of them were sitting at the table in the guards' room, just off the cells, when a delicious little halfling woman was escorted past them. Her hands were in chains and her head was bowed, but on her neck she carried a nice silver pendant, and her green dress was nice, fine linen. It had a tear on the side, though, exposing a white undershirt. Nothing more was bare, though. Disappointing.

"What's she in for?" Arten asked the pair of guards escorting her. It was Veleda, who had so rudely turned Arten down earlier that week, and Nichol, a young and violent man from very low nobility, whom Arten had personally hired.

"Theft, can you believe it?" said Nichol. "Was posing as a merchant and snatched the jewels off a dozen fine ladies before being caught. Not so proud now, though, is she?"

Nichol let out a short laugh at his own words. Veleda did not laugh, but nodded her head towards the cells.

"Right, right", Nichol said, and they left. Arten admired the halfling's arse while they went. It was wide and plump, wobbling slightly on top of those short legs. If he stuck his cock in that it'd probably come up to her tits.

Balric, on the other side of the table, had his eyes glued to the same sight, Arten noticed. Interesting.

"Ever had a halfie?" Arten asked, tentatively.

The face that Balric made on his rough face was not quite joyful although it was a smile.

"Sure have", he replied. "There's this whore over at the Rooster and Donkey. Little man, all tiny and tight like, but takes you in deep and doesn't complain."

Arten looked at the man, feeling newfound appreciation. "Is that so?" he said slowly. "I have never."

The mirthless smile never left Balric's face as he glanced in the direction of the cells. "Well, there's one for you to try, should you wish it."

Veleda and Nichol returned just then, and Arten didn't reply. "Thank you, guardsman, guardswoman", Arten said, dismissing them.

The pair saluted and left.

"The prison guards do a lot of that sort of thing, then?" Arten asked, hoping to seem neither to object nor to be too eager.

"Some do", Balric replied, matter-of-factly.

Arten didn't let his face show it, but he was elated. Finally. It had been just a matter of finding the right person. Corruption, after all, was everywhere.

"Only natural", Arten agreed. "And you?"

"Wouldn't mind a good dip in that one", Balric said, completely shameless. Arten admired that in a person. Finally, here was someone who wasn't afraid to admit what he wanted.

"And the other guards?" he asked.

Balric shrugged. "Some don't like it. Everyone knows it happens. Nobody does anything."

"Would we be disturbed, right now?" Arten asked, and nodded towards the cells.

Balric shrugged. "There's not a shift change due 'til noon. The patrols won't be bringing in anyone else, not likely, this early."

Arten considered quickly whether it would be weird doing it with someone else there. Oh, he'd had some three-way trysts, some of them quite enjoyable. But he had noticed years ago that he preferred to hurt the people he fucked, and he preferred to do that alone. Would someone else also in control spoil his fun?

But then again, it was only right to reward Balric for being so forthcoming. Arten eyed the man: all hardened muscle, chiseled features, a long scar on his cheek. Probably this brute was perfectly capable of taking what he wanted, even without being specifically rewarded by anyone.

But then, so was Arten. He hadn't fucked in two days, and he was itching for some fresh meat. If it was tiny and tight and unwilling, all the better.

"Right", Arten said slowly. "Sure, why not." He almost laughed. The heady pleasure of a surprising, shared secret was making his head swim.

Balric rose from his seat. "Captain", he said politely, and waited for Arten to go before him.

Arten felt his dick twitch. He was being respected, and he was going to get some warm, tight cunt soon. He felt the small frustrations and aches of the past week leave his body. He walked past Balric, into the corridor of cells.

The little halfling woman was in the furthest cell up the corridor, with no direct line of vision to any of the other cells. That was good. Arten didn't mind the other scum hearing or guessing what was up in her cell, but having them watch would have been a bit too much. She was hunkered in a corner, wrapped in a blanket. Her half-eaten dinner was still on its plate, and a sharp smell of urine was wafting from the pot in the corner.

Arten stood to the side as Balric opened the cell with a large key. The men stepped in, and Balric locked the door behind them.

"Up you get", Arten told the halfling, not too kindly.

She shuddered visibly, but otherwise she didn't move. Her large, pointed ears were bent slightly towards, him, involuntarily listening, but she didn't look at him.

"Oh, come now", Arten said, exasperated now, as he stood over her. "We've come to get out dicks wet. No shame in that. We won't hurt you too bad if you're a nice girl. You might even have fun. So now. Get. Up." He barked the last words louder, more commanding.

The woman clutched her blanket a little more tightly. Her luxuriant brown hair cascaded down her back, a contrast to the moth-eaten prison blanket.

Arten sighed. "Well, I tried to be nice. Guardsman?"

Balric flashed him a joyless grin. "Captain." His anticipation was visible in his posture. It was almost disturbing.

Arten stepped back from the woman. "Rough her up a little. But don't damage her."

Without a word, Balric stood above the woman. She took a sharp breath but didn't look up. Artlessly, he grabbed her by the collar with one hand and lifted her clear off the ground, the blanket falling from her. Gods, but she was tiny. She must have been half of Balric's height, and not nearly half his weight. She struggled feebly, trying to pry his hand off her neck, legs kicking without much energy. Shortly, he threw her back on the floor, hard.

She crashed among the dirty straws with barely any time to soften her fall with her arms, and let out a small squeak of pain. Baltic bent down and grabbed her thick hair, pulling her up but letting her stand on her own two feet for now. She clawed at his hands and squirmed, a pained, angry look on her face. She was breathing hard, and Arten admired how her ample bust was heaving inside the fancy green dress.

"Stop struggling", Arten said lazily.

She didn't.

"You heard the Captain." Balric drew back a hand and punched the side of one plump breast. She uttered a choked scream and clasped her chest with her hands.

"Get her hands", Arten instructed.

It took some doing, but more with brute force than any skill, Balric forced both her hands behind her back. Her hands secured in one of Balric's, he grabbed her hair again and made her look at Arten.

This man had style, Arten thought. Balric was obviously not just a violent bastard, he wanted to humiliate. A man after Arten's own tastes.

Arten stepped closer to the pair and punched her other breast.

It had a satisfying give, and it made a soft thump under his fist.

The halfling woman was sobbing hysterically now, occasionally making small jerky movements to get away. But she was hopelessly trapped in Balric's vicelike grip. Men like Balric were so useful.

"Going to play nice now?" Arten murmured, squatting down so his face was on a level with hers.

She didn't answer. She just sobbed, her eyes distant, looking somewhere past him.

He grabbed one of her breasts. It was plentiful and soft, more pointed than round inside her loose dress, and it must have been sore. He squeezed down hard. She screamed at that, and went completely rigid. Arten glanced at Balric's face. He was looking down at the halfling with unconcealed lust.

"I asked, are you going to play nice now?" Arten said, articulating clearly.

For emphasis, he punched her breast again.

"Are you?"

Another punch, before she really even had time to answer. The deep thump of fist hitting teat.

"Are you?"

The halfling drew a sharp breath. "Yesyesyesyesyes", she sobbed very fast. "Yes please don't hit me, please no."

"That's a good start", Arten conceded. He nodded to Balric. "Let her go."

Balric took one ponderous look at him and then released the halfling. She collapsed on the floor, clasping herself with her arms and shivering.

Arten took one step towards her, towering over the cowed woman.

"Get. Up!" Arten half shouted, louder than he needed, to let the woman know he meant what he said.

She flinched at his shout, and clumsily got up. She was still hugging herself, eyes on the ground. Arten took a step closer, not quite touching her. He was feeling his prick twitch in his breeches. Hurting this small woman had been a delight, and it was about to get more pleasant still.

"Take your clothes off!" he ordered, less loud but no less demanding. She looked at him with tears in her big, green eyes, those wide pointy ears drooping. She was cute in her way, Arten found, all soft and ripe to be used. She reached to the neck of her dress with trembling hands, and begun to undo the lacings. She was clumsy in her frightened state, fumbling with the lace, and Arten felt like laughing.

But he didn't even smile. "Get it off!" he barked at the woman. "Unless you want me to cut it off you!"

She became even more clumsy, at that. Arten could see she was trying, but she was just trembling too hard to be efficient. But Arten didn't have to cut the dress, in the end. She managed to loosen the lace enough to slip out of the dress. She hesitated only for a moment, in her loose white underdress, and then she wriggled out of that too, without Arten even having time to say anything. Arten was pleased at that. The little thing was learning.

There she stood, heavy, pointy breasts speckled with already forming bruises, ears hanging down, eyes downcast, and her heavy brown bush bare for all to see.

Arten started to undo his breeches. There was nothing more to it, no need to convince this woman of anything, no bribery or threatening or blackmail to do before he could fuck this woman. She was at their mercy already. It would be foolish not to take advantage now.

Arten pulled down his breeches and, on considering the moldy straws on the floor, set them down on the small stool that was the cell's only furniture. His cock stood fully erect and proud, waiting to be dipped in her.

"I'm going to rape you", he said to the woman, and stepped closer. "Rape you deeper than your tiny halfie men have ever fucked you. Gonna see my prick come out your mouth."

He pressed himself against the woman, and his cock rested on the halfling's shoulder. She flinched and sobbed but didn't say anything.

"How do you even fuck these things?" he asked Balric, who had stood, smiling, behind the woman. "The bitch is tiny!"

Balric laughed. "Lift 'em up!" he said. "Or on all fours, I guess."

Arten nodded. "On the floor, cunt!" he growled. "On all fours!"

She knelt, slowly, as if in pain, and lowered her hands on the floor, facing Arten.

"Other way around, you idiot!" he shouted, and kicked at her face. He had intended to just frighten her, but she didn't flinch out of the way, and his boot thumped at her cheek and mouth. She just took it, as if paralyzed, staring ahead. But then she scrambled to turn around.

I'm going to have you make some noise yet, Arten thought. Just wait and see.

She stayed there, on all fours like a bitch dog, arse towards Arten, and waited. Arten grabbed his cock, tentatively. Oh yes, he was ready.

He knelt behind the girl, knees outside her legs to compensate for the difference in their heights.

"Hold her", he told Balric. "In case she wants to run."

Balric grinned widely as he knelt in front of her. Arten could see the outline of his cock through his loose trousers, and as took a good hold of her shoulders, he ground his cock against her face. She tried to turn away from his member, but there was nowhere to go.

Arten spat on his hand, for his own comfort not hers, and felt around inside her bush. She flinched at that but didn't make a sound and didn't move. He rubbed the saliva on her slit, then produced one more glob of spit. Arten rubbed the moisture on the head of his cock and positioned himself.

Since there was no need to consider her feelings, he took a firm grip on her hips, braced himself, and lunged forward.

She was tight. He only advanced for an inch, and that was almost painful for him too. But he was rewarded by the high, long wail that she let out at that. As long as she is suffering more than me, Arten thought, and made another snap with his hips.

Another inch gained, and now his whole cockhead was in the tight, unyielding constraint of her hole. Her wail was even higher and louder at that. He could feel her little hole pulsating, cramping, trying in vain to get him out. She was, as expected, trying to move forward to escape his invasion, but Balric was leaning heavily against her upper body, all the while rubbing his dick on her face. She didn't even seem to notice that any more. Her head was tilted back, and she was strained all over, making a small, high whining noise.

As entertaining as that was, Arten wanted to fuck already, and her dry cunt was making it harder. He pulled out, to a relieved sob and sigh from the halfling, and spit on his cock.

Arten positioned himself again, and pushed in. It was still tight as a buttonhole, but his dick was wetter. With a series of forceful jabs, half his cock was in her.

Good enough. Arten pulled almost all the way out, and then thrust in, forcefully, not as hard now that the way was alreaady opened. It still got another wail out of her. Her channel pulsed and rippled around his shaft, and her ample arse was in full display in front of him. Arten pulled partway out and made another hard thrust. And just for fun, he punched one round arse-cheek with his fist. He couldn't get good momentum from so close, while his cock was inside her, but judging by her scream, she still felt it.

Arten started push in and pull out in a steady, slow rhythm. Her cunt was fighting his entry with every thrust, it felt like, yet still it clung on to his cock when he was pulling out, like it didn't want to let him go.

"Yeah", he sighed, as he plowed her deep. "Fuck, you feel good. I bet you're loving this, halfie slut. Aren't you? I bet you are."

She didn't answer. She had stopped struggling too much, but she still let out a pained squeal with almost every thrust.

"I asked", Arten said slowly. He grabbed her hips a bit harder and made another forceful thrust, reaching further inside her, all the way to the bottom. "Are you fucking loving this?"

He made another sharp thrust to the dead end of her cunt, hitting her cervix. She wailed.

He sighed and thrust again. "Answer me!" he commanded, and punched her bottom again, aiming for the same spot as before.

She wailed something unintelligible.

Arten made a few more hard thrusts. And another punch. "Are you?" he shouted.

She still couldn't get a clear word out.

He couldn't get his whole cock inside the small thing. But that woudn't stop him from trying. He rutted in the halfling's cunt, trying to gain ground where there was none more to be gained. In between thrusts, he punched the woman's arse again. He didn't quite hit the purple spot on her arse, but he tried again and hit right in the middle of it.

That finally got her talking. "Please sir", she said very fast, in a small, high voice. "Please sir, stop, please, it feels terrible, it hurts so, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just, I can't any more, please."

She babbled on as Arten, content to have her talking, hammered home to her little cunt. The going was a little easier now, her natural moisture easing the way. But it was still exquisitely tight and small.

"Ever been fucked by a human?" asked Balric, who had been quiet until then. He was still lazily rubbing his very obvious erection against the halfling's face, and still holding tight to her shoulders.

"No sir, never, just my husband, just only him, please stop, please please please…"

"Just the one man?" Balric asked, grinning widely. He cupped his cock through his trousers and eyed the woman appraisingly. "And he's a halfie like you?"

"Yes sir, ow!" she winced as Arten pushed particularly hard against her cervix.

"And are you loving this, cunt?" asked Arten.

"Sir, I can't take it. I can't take it. It just hurts so much. Please."

Filling the whole little cunt to the brim was satisfying in its way, even if he'd wanted to push his whole cock in. Instead, he contented himself on pummeling the end of her cunt hard and fast. He reached to grab one of her large breasts with one hand, took a firm hold, and then grabbed her other breast in his other hand. She screeched at his rough handling or her already bruised tits, and he delighted in the sound. He started pounding her harder, using her breasts as clumsy reins, making her choose between pushing against his punishing cock and stretching her sore breasts even more. He pulled and squeezed at the fat teats, and she went near hysterical with the pain, sobbing out unintelligible words.

Finally, he felt the sweet pressure in his loins. Arten let go of the woman's breasts, and her upper body fell slack on the ground. He held tight to her hips and pounded in her, wanting more and more of her hot, clenching pussy, but still feeling his release evade him. He hammered her harder, harder, harder, and at last, he felt a hot wave of pleasure as he released deep inside the unwilling woman's cunt. He came long and hard, making steady pushes as deep in her as he could get, and from somewhere outside his orgasmic haze he could hear her pained whimpers at that, now hoarse from all the sound she'd been making.

He smacked her buttock once more, as he felt his spent cock slipping out of her.

"Your turn", Arten sighed happily.

"About time", Balric said, smiling his hungry, mirthless smile. He got up from the ground and undid his trousers. The halfling was slumped on the floor, still on all fours but now curled up in a ball, and she didn't move as Balric stood up. He dropped his trousers, revealing his own fully erect cock.

It was massive. Arten wasn't small by any means, but Balric's prick was one of the largest he'd ever seen. And it was beautiful, throbbing and veined, with a large, bulbous head that pulsed with excitement. Arten had half a mind to kneel down and suck it, but Balric had been promised a much less willing treat, and in any case this was not the time nor the place for Arten to have him.

Without any preamble, Balric stepped behind the sobbing woman and grabbed her by the hair, almost lifting her clear in the air. She let out a muffled yelp. Balric turned her around to face him, picked her up from under her arms, and lifted her in his lap. Against Balric's bulk of muscle, she looked even smaller. And if she'd been tight for Arten, Balric's prodigious cock was going to have a difficult time going in. Still, Arten had no doubt he was going to manage it.

Slowly getting up from the floor where he'd stayed, exhausted by his orgasm, Arten looked closely as Balric handled the limp form of the halfling woman so that she was positioned on his cock. She was unresponsive at first, but when Balric grabbed his cock to guide it in her and started letting her fall down, she came to life again. The halfling grabbed Balric's shoulders in a pathetic attempt to keep herself from slipping further down on his cock. But with a thrust of his hips, and with the aid of the red-tinted mixture of sperm and blood that was leaking from her already, he was in.

She didn't scream any more. Instead, she exhaled sharply, like she'd been punched in the stomach. In a way, she had, though it was from the inside. Arten stood and watched the disproportionate couple, seeing inch after inch of his cock disappear as she inexorably slid down, spearing her cunt on his brutal weapon. It was captivating to see how she was forced to grab his shoulders, as if hugging him, to slow her fall and curtail some of the pain she must have been feeling.

She had nothing to his strength, though. And once Balric was as deep in her as he was likely to get, he took a firm hold of her, one hand under her arms and the other around her arse, and started fucking in her. His pace was leisurely and controlled, and she stayed silent, tears falling on her face in an endless stream, eyes empty and hopeless, ears drooping now. Arten felt his cock twitch again at the sight, as he was redoing his breeches, but not quite enough to have another go. Maybe some other night.

Instead, he stood and watched as Balric thrust in the woman, handling her like she weighed nothing, battering her cunt over and over with his massive cock. He took his sweet time and increased his pace only slowly, and Arten sat down on the stool, never taking his eyes off the pair. He needed to piss. And Balric was in no hurry.

But the fucking was beautiful to watch, and when Balric started getting nearer to his orgasm, he hammered her harder and deeper. That brought life into the woman again. She sobbed in a hoarse voice, and Arten could just make out occasional words in her incoherent whines. Words like "please" and "stop". And "hurts" and "anything" and "dying". That last one was exaggeration, Arten was pretty sure. She was bleeding for sure, bright streaks of red staining Balric's cock now, but she'd live.

Balric was very quiet when he pushed in her one last time. He held the halfling still, his prick deep in her damaged cunt, a look of ecstasy on his rough face.

Then he simply let go of her. The woman fell, letting out a shout, and landed roughly on he floor. There she stayed, limp and unmoving save for little sobs that racked her body every now and then.

Arten really needed to piss now. He pulled his cock out of his trousers, half erect and twitching after he'd witnessed Balric's rough handling of the woman. But he was flaccid enough to be able to let out a long, hot stream of piss, right in the woman's face. She whined and covered her face, to shield it from the torrent of piss. Arten didn't mind, and wet her naked body all over before he was done.

He let out a contented sigh. Balric was leaning on the wall, looking worn out by his hard work, but then he too stood next to the woman and pissed on her. She whimpered but didn't move any more, just lying there, waiting for it to be over. It's all she could do anyway, just wait and take it if big men wanted to fuck her. And fucked her they had.

Arten laced up his breeches again and nodded to Balric, who pulled on his trousers and produced the cell key. Together they left the cell, leaving the halfling woman crying on the floor.

Neither of the men said anything much. There was nothing to say. They were satisfied, and there would be countless other opportunities to partake in this exact type of diversion if they wished. Arten saluted Balric, who saluted him back.

"Captain", Balric said.

"Guardsman", Arten replied, and turned to leave. He whistled as he walked up the stairs of the prison. Life was full of little delights, if you only knew where to look for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O hai. This work is not abandoned, life is just very busy and my days are full of endless screentime anyway, so writing has fallen by the wayside. But here's another chapter!
> 
> Writing this thing has been oddly catharctic. Bastards in places of power are a thing I'm very afraid of, as is rape. And all this filth of a fic is saying is, "the bad guys win, everything is terrible, nothing more to do", which is a kind of relief?
> 
> I'll be back?


End file.
